


Healing

by ShaeLynn



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaeLynn/pseuds/ShaeLynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night the company arrives is not the first night dwarrows have been within the walls of Bag-End and there is one dwarf that doesn’t need a map to find his way when he hears another ask what the end of a bag has to do with anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own, wish I did, but I don’t. Anything recognizable including all characters, places, and images are under trademark through Tolkien and the companies that make the movies.
> 
> If someone wants to archive, please ask first. You won’t be turned down, but I would like to know where it’s going. Thank you.
> 
> Polite constructive criticism is welcome; FLAMES WILL BE FED TO THE DRAGON IN MY BED.

The Shire. That’s all the information they’d been given, to meet in the Shire. Neither Bofur nor Bombur had ever been to the land inhabited by hobbits, so didn’t realize how large the Shire actually was. And no one could ever fully understand him so Bifur wasn’t able to get them to realize they needed more information than that. Bifur’s mind wandered when they reached the outskirts of that land back to the time he had passed through the hobbits’ home.

Despite his cousins’ protests, he had gone alone away from the Blue Mountains. Neither of the two could take the time away from their work to accompany him and that was part of why he left. Money was tight and work was scarce, even for a minor and one of the few chefs that the mountains had. Bifur was just another mouth to feed, the cost of his small lean-to toy shop was barely made up by what he could sell as there were so few dwarrow children. With Bombur’s wife expecting their second child, they needed all the money they could save for the mid-wife. 

They’d barely been able to afford one seven years ago when Bombur’s first son was born. Bifur had tried to go back into the mine’s then, just temporarily to help pay what they owed, but they refused to take him. It took Bofur and Bombur two years of going without new boots and little food for the debt to be paid off and Bifur had been able to do nothing but eat as little as possible to help them scrimp and save. He had vowed then, silently to himself, that he would not put such an added strain upon his kin again.

So he had taken what toys he still had not sold and only enough provisions that could be easily spared by his family, and set out. It hadn’t been all that long until he’d arrived at the Shire, eating what plants he knew were edible on the journey to supplement what little he had. As always, language had been an issue, but only at the beginning. He had been first encountered while he was whittling a new toy, carving the face onto it and was cautiously brought to the local woodcarver. It wasn’t until he brought out a toy that was only mildly entertaining to dwarrow children that his profession was understood.

He had rocked the little rabbit forward on it’s base and as it rocked back, it had hopped, hardly moving forward, but enough for a small hobbit girl to rush into the open from where she had been spying to beg him to make it hop again. There had always been a gentle fondness in him for children and toy making had been a hobby that he indulged in because of that, giving most of his things away instead of selling them at first. The hobbit father had bee wary at first about Bifur even speaking with his daughter, but the calm gentleness Bifur showed the little girl as he let her ask simple questions without waiting for more than a head shake in response, seemed to put him at ease.

It was with a glowing recommendation that he was escorted from village to village in the Shire by the never ending stream of relatives that all hobbits seemed to have, and managed to sell through what he had brought with him by the time he had reached Hobbiton. There he stayed with a family by the name of Cotton, his traveling paused for a while as he carved every spare moment, selling through what he made within days of finishing each item. He helped his hosts as much as he could and they would allow, but spent the better part of each day sitting in a corner of the market with a small table and carving away to an audience of spell-bound children.

The young ones seemed, within moments of meeting him, to understand that he could not speak to them as they did to each other and still asked endless questions of him as he carved, all designed to have a yes/no answer. Queries that many of the mothers through rude usually resulted in a laugh, delighting the children endlessly. It was common for children to enquire after the axe in his head and one such day it was a child that seemed different to the rest and older than most of his usual admirers, being close to, if not within, his second decade of life.

“It still hurts sometimes, inside, doesn’t it?”

The child had asked and Bifur could not seem to produce the smile and head shake that reassured everyone, even his kin, so he gave no answer as it did mildly ache inside constantly, sometimes so much he could barely rise from his bed.

“Can I help?”

Bifur cocked his head to the side in confusion, but gave a brief nod, not knowing how else to answer the strange question. The child had a small grin on his face and leaned forward, one hand gently brushing along the edges of skin where the axe was imbedded, the butterfly touch leaving a tingling feeling in its wake and the child spoke, breathlessly, almost like in a dream.

“May the blessings of Yavanna be upon you and ease your pain that her healing flows through you in joy.”

Then he stepped back with a grin of happiness, “My name’s Bilbo, I live up on the hill there. Will you come to supper tomorrow? I’d like my parents to meet you. Mum loves guests of other races and I don’t think she’s ever met a dwarf before.”

Bifur nodded, but didn’t even try to speak. The tingling had spread down into his head pleasantly, all around where the axe sat, even deep inside to the edge of the buried blade. It was slowly fading away and every place it had touched was calm, no twitching or pinpricks of pain. In fact, the pain was gone, the ever present ache that he hadn’t been aware was so bad, was non-existent now. He received another smile before the child continued on his way, a light bounce to his step.

He did indeed spend the next evening in the smial atop the highest hill in Hobbiton, a guest of a most curious couple whose love for each other and their son could be felt in the very air of the home. She was outspoken with numerous tales to tell of adventures, elves, and beyond the borders of the Shire. Bifur could see that Bilbo hung on her every word while his father watched on indulgently. Bungo was staid and steady, keeping things orderly without effort and being the rock his family clung to for strength.

The child had been gifted by the Valar that created hobbits to be able to ease pain and heal as long as she had not called the hobbit to her garden, faint green vines crossing the palms of his hands, like tattoos, that glowed when his gift was used. It sounded much like the Halls of Waiting and Mahal’s Forge, but a brightly green land with open skies instead of the thick stone that dwarrows expected at the end. Their Valar was one of life and peace and it took some time for Bifur to understand that they spoke of the Green Lady, the wife of the dwarrow creator, Mahal.

After that night Bifur began to look at the hobbits differently, seeing more into the ways they were dissimilar to dwarrow. And as he saw more of their ways with new eyes, so he began to see similarities between the two races. Both had their loves that trumped all else: dwarrows their gold and precious metals, hobbits their gardens and homes; dwarrows lived in the stone they were beholden to for riches and life, hobbits lived within the dirt that produced their food and flowers; dwarrows enjoyed the bright colors of the gems they mined and cut to clarity to adorn themselves with, hobbits enjoyed the colors of the flowers that bloomed around them and were present in nearly all aspects of their lives. And despite the differences in birth rates, both races equally adored their children and would do everything they could, sometimes more, to keep them safe and happy.

Bifur stayed within Hobbiton for a year, the longest by far of any of the villages he had visited, moving into Bag-End with Bilbo and his parents when his previous hosts needed the spare room he’d been using for their new-born son. He branched out from eating the few vegetables that other dwarrow did until he found himself enjoying, even preferring the greens and leafy things that hobbits grew, including the numerous edible flowers that his hosts placed near his plate at night after he’d found a taste for them.

In that time he had only had the pain return once, on a stormy morning with the changed pressure against the axe head from deep within and the pain was worse than any before, blinding him with it’s intensity. When he could finally refocus on his surroundings, he found the child again speaking of Yavanna’s healing as he traced the wound’s edges and he realized that it was still morning and not the next day as the severe pain had sometimes done, keeping him from even knowing time had passed. 

He had enough stock bult up after that year to continue his journey throught he Shire and into the towns of men beyond that. After five years he returned though to spend a short month at Bag-End before returning to his kin the Blue Mountains, enough money to support himself for several years if he did nothing but sit and eat all day. He had not been back since, time slipping away as the lifespan of a dwarf encompassed centuries instead of a single one.

With a start, Bifur realized that they had met up with another trio of dwarrow all going to the same location and they even had further directions. When he asked his cousin, realizing they were nearly out of the North Farthing already, he was stunned to be told the village was Hobbiton that their burglar was residing in. He was considering if he would have time to visit Bilbo when he overheard on of the other dwarrows asking about what a bag’s end had to do with anything. Bofur looked at him in concern when he nearly tumbled off his pony at hearing that.

He said nothing as he let the group continue along in the growing dark, his eyes simply watching everything to ensure they continued on the right path. Bifur was just about to pull ahead of the others to lead them directly to Bag-End when they met up with the wizard and two other dwarrow. Bifur was not exactly partial to the Istari’s presence and allowed himself to be steered to the Inn where they would stable their ponies for the night before tramping back out in to Hobbiton. 

There were only very few hobbits about so late, when Bifur knew most sat down to a dinner just before retiring for the night. A few looked at the group curiously, but only one noticed the axe in his head an Bifur, walking near the back of the group, was the only one to see the smile and wave from the hobbit which he acknowledged with his own raised hand, happy to still be recognized even after so long a time away.

At Bag-End, Bifur kept himself out of sight in the group of dwarrow for a time, just observing the hobbit. He looked much different than he had been as a child and the dwarf was not positive that it was actually Bilbo he was looking at since the wizard never said a name. That was until he saw two portraits above the mantel that clearly showed Bungo and Belladonna as they had been before he left the Shire. Then, he made it a point to turn at their host suddenly, amidst the hobbit’s complaints and the chaos to point at the axe in his head while he spoke, hoping the younger one hadn’t forgotten him in the time he was away.

Bilbo’s eyes widened in surprise before he grabbed Bifur’s hand to pull him away from the crowded rooms, bringing him down the hall to a quieter portion of the smial. He just looked him over for a time before finally smiling widely at the dwarf just as he had in his teens.

“I did not know if I would ever see you again. I have something to show you.”

Bifur was pulled along by the hand Bilbo was still holding and he felt a slight flutter in his stomach like he had swallowed a moth. They went down the corridor he had once slept down, but went past the spare room he had used. He knew the hall went to a dead end, but when they reached it, Bifur was amazed to see that there was another door now, hidden at a slight corner so as to be hardly visible. Its placement was not one that a hobbit would have chosen if they were to extend out their smial. Around the doorframe was a border of stone, heavy stone like what dwarrows built their homes of it hey could not be hewn directly from the mountain they lived in.

With a nearly shy look to him, Bilbo pushed the door open and Bifur stared. Directly across from the doorway was a stone mural, carved into the very walls of the room, made from the same stone, a material no hobbit used. To the left were rows of bookshelves containing what looked like texts in Ancient Khuzdul. To the right was a desk, parchment spread out over it with a quill and ink, which looked to be used often by a learning hand.

Bilbo pulled him further into the room, letting him look his fill. “The Green Mother blessed me during the Fell Winter in order to help my people, to heal those that could live and to ease the passing of those that could not, as you know. When I healed you in the market that day, many of my people thought I had betrayed Yavanna’s blessing and they turned their backs on me after my parents died, only coming to me for help under the direst of circumstances and often too late.”

Bifur came closer to him, one large hand gently cradling the back of Bilbo’s neck as he brought their foreheads together gently. The hobbit sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into the comfort. Whenever Bilbo had been upset when he stayed there, Bifur would offer the same thing, though now Bilbo knew how much more it meant. Thought it had been difficult to communicate with words between them, they had learned to watch for other things and Bifur had begun to teach him what little Iglishmek he could without being able to speak.

“One day in the market, a family that had waited too long to being their sick child to me, confronted me about having lost Yavanna’s gift because of my actions with you and that had been why I could not save the child. I refused to acknowledge that I had done anything wrong and defended my actions that day. There were several that I had been able to help that swore I still had the blessing from our Green Mother. When I returned that day, this had appeared and the next morning I could understand what was written without teaches, without even thought, as though I always could. I knew then that I had been doubly blessed by the Stone Father, Yavanna’s husband, Mahal, your creator.”

“I am sorry to cause you pain, little one, for others to shun you for your kindness.”

Bilbo smiled broadly, “I can understand your words now as well. Do not be sorry for what others have done. I don’t regret anything I did, I never have, no matter how badly things got. It has allowed me to journey and learn more of how to use the gift I was blessed with as a child. I know of the enmity between dwarrows and elves, but Rivendell’s Lord Elrond was also blessed by his Vala and was able to teach me much of how to use my gifts. If I had the time now, I might be able to remove the axe entirely, though I cannot guarantee your communication would ever return to what it once was.”

Bifur sat down in the chair of the desk, pulling Bilbo with him until he had him sitting across his knees, another position of comfort for the both of them from decades past, though they shared a quiet laugh ht how ridiculous it probably now looked with the hobbit only being a few inches shorter than Bifur. “How badly has it gotten for you now, Bilbo?” 

The willful ignoring of the offer for more healing did not escape Bilbo’s notice, but he shrugged it off, allowing it to be Bifur’s choice. It took several minutes for Bilbo to give him an answer that would sum up what had been happening without going into details. “Hobbits are social creatures. We are not meant to live our lives alone.”

“Yet it is only you within this smial with your parents gone to the Green Mother’s Garden. I am sorry, Bilbo.”

“It is no matter, my friend. I have become accustomed to it and I still have a few relations and friends that will visit with me. The elves and Gandalf are careful not to leave me alone for too long at a time either. Even the wealth of Bag-End and my station is not enough to entice attention to me now.”

Bifur growled lowly, “Do not accept any that only come for that. They are the worst kind of dishonorable. You have always been worthy of a great spouse and family and I would take you for my own if you would have me.”

The dwarf could see the shock on Bilbo’s face and the undeniable joy at the offer before his Baggins’ senses returned. “Bifur, I cannot live within a mountain. I need to feel the dirt around me, to grow things in the light and fresh air. Despite how I am treated, I cannot abandon my people as both a healer and with my station.”

“I do not need to live in a mountain, little one,” Bifur answered, pressing his face into the hobbit’s neck, smiling slightly at the light shudder he got in return. “I have spent half my life above the stone and you know how much I enjoy green things now.”

“But what of your kin, Bifur? Surely they would not be happy with such a choice.”

“Bombur’s family is waiting in the Blue Mountains, but they live in a house with Bofur and I, above the stone. Bofur would rather carve wood than mine the stone, as is his profession now, and Bombur is happiest within a kitchen, his wife beside him. Not one of us needs a mountain to be happy.”

“But you are leaving on a journey now that may take how many years,” Bilbo’s protests were getting weaker as he clung tighter to the dwarf’s shoulders, gasping slightly when Bifur placed an open kiss upon the skin just beneath his earlobe.

“This quest is one that the Wizard has said you would be accompanying us on, though he told no one your name and claimed you as a burglar,” Bifur laughed quietly at that, knowing that in his youth, Bilbo had been quite the little thief when it came to vegetable or revenge for wrong-doings by other. “If you do choose to come with us after you hear what it is about, know that I will protect you. My cousins will also after I speak with them as much as I can. Whether you will have me or not.”

“I… Bifur, I only have maybe another fifty years of life left. The oldest hobbit and Took only made it to one hundred and thirty years and I am already within my fifth decade. Why would you tie yourself to me knowing how short our time will be?”

“If we all survive the quest, I have not much more than twice that before I will return to the stone, though I seem to be aging faster than others my age. Many have said it was the horror of the orc attack and my injury.” Bifur held tighter to the hobbit, needing to feel him closer. “ I have never met anyone that stirred such emotions within me, bar you. As a child it was peace and happiness that never faded in all this time. Now, it is stronger. From the moment I saw you again, my head was clearer and I have been happier. I did not understand why you moved me when I thought you a stranger, but then I realized you had simply changed so much in appearance. Bilbo Baggins, I would be no hardship to love you, and I already very nearly do.”

“Bifur—“ Bilbo wrapped his arms tightly about the dwarf and buried his face against his neck, just inhaling the smell of trees, leather, and metal that clung to the other. “Thank you. I will accept your offer and never regret it. Thank you, so much, my dear friend.”

Bifur allowed one hand to begin petting down the golden curls at the back of Bilbo’s head, soothing both of them as their emotions rose. “Once the quest is done, I will return here with you and we can try to remove the axe. Afterwards we will plan a hobbit wedding for you to be the envy of all the Shire and prove to them that it is not a betrayal of your blessing but an honor to them both. Mahal and Yavanna have brought us together again and I will show the world that we are right where we belong, right where our Valar want us to be.”

 

Reviews are appreciated.


	2. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the Battle of Five Armies is over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> over 7000 words was too long to place as a single chapter for me, so the sequel to Healing is split in these last two chapters. enjoy! and if there are any mistakes that are noticed, please feel free to let me know. flames will be fed to the dragons in my bed, though, fair warning.

Bifur would not hear of stopping early, no matter the complaints from those around him. They were too close to the edge of the Shire and when the caravan stopped for the night, it would be on soil blessed by the Green Mother. He turned to glance at the pony beside him when it pulled level and met Bofur’s cheerful eyes.

“How much longer do you think? The boys are getting hungry.”

Bifur answered vaguely with his hands that it was not far now. Then, barely five minutes later he stopped them and glanced around, gesturing to a small clearing off one side of the road. Bofur grinned widely and sent Kili off with Nori to hunt for their meal while the rest brought the wagons into a loose circle in the clearing. The guards divided up amongst the wagons, three of them standing near the smallest one.

The other three larger wagons had a mere single guard to them in contrast. The division of protection was unusual for dwarrow and the guards themselves still barely understood it, but when all seven dwarrow members of the King’s Company that were present, including the two heirs of Erebor’s throne demanded something, the guards had learned to not question it. The larger wagons each were filled with gold up to what the two ponies per cart could safely pull.

Fili and Ori directed those two wagons while Bifur and Bofur rode their ponies until their destination in the Shire. Despite the amount of wealth, it was not those wagons the guards were sworn to never abandon. Bifur approached the smallest wagon, offering a hand up as his cousin climbed down from the driving seat.

“He’s awake again,” Bombur said as he clasped a hand on Bifur’s shoulder before moving over to where Bofur already had a fire started and was setting up the soup pot.

It took only a few moments for Bifur to have the latch undone and the door open on the wagon, peering into the darkness within, eyes easily finding what he sought. Despite that most dwarrow would question it, the Company did not and no one else’s opinions mattered. This was the greatest treasure that the caravan carried.

“We’re here. I could feel it as soon as we passed into the Shire.”

“Bilbo,” Bifur simply smiled. “Either your sleep is improving or you got stronger on our journey than you let on.”

The hobbit laughed, but held one arm out for Bifur to help him from the wagon. It was not until he was standing beside his husband, Bifur’s strong arm supporting his weak frame, and his bare toes burrowing into the loam beneath them that he answered.

“No, my sleep was still poor and it was not the journey spent in a wagon that has given me extra strength. Neither Gandalf nor the elf lords knew to what extent I needed to be in the Shire. Nor did they know just how quickly I would recuperate once here. There are many reasons we hobbits rarely leave these lands permanently.”

Bifur steered him towards the fire where Dwalin and Fili were speaking quietly of the part of the journey from the Shire to the Ered Luin. “We have only been here for a quarter turn of the hour and already it is affecting you so much?”

Bilbo laughed, drawing the attention of those around them, “It will slow the longer we are here. I’ll recuperate the fastest in the next few days, though it will take at least a couple months before I am fully recovered.”

“Bilbo, come sit by me,” Fili called, patting at the spot not taken by Dwalin which already had Bilbo’s bedroll laid out for him.

Bifur helped the hobbit over there and then settled himself behind Bilbo so he could lean back against him. The hobbit had his feet flat on the ground off the edge of his bedroll with his toes trying to dig into the packed dirt. Bofur saw his actions and playfully asked if he’d like them buried with the dirt they moved when they dug the small pit for the fire. He wasn’t expecting Bilbo’s excited agreement, nor the blissful sigh he let out after his feet were completely covered.

The dwarrows all watched him in confusion until Bilbo opened his eyes and saw them staring. He laughed and beckoned for Fili’s hand. Then, he placed it against a bare patch of dirt between them and covered it with his own.

“Close your eyes, my Prince. Let yourself relax and then feel the soil, not with your hand, but with your heart.”

No one said anything as they watched the two in curiosity. Kili and Nori had just stepped back into the camp when the marks of vines that curled up the left of Fili’s neck and face began to glow lightly at his mouth dropped open in shock. Bilbo gently took his hand away and chuckled. Fili kept his eyes closed until the glow had completely faded away.

“That’s… that was… Mahal,” the blond prince breathed out in amazement.

“Yavanna, actually, Fili. Specifically, her blessing.”

“That’s what we would have felt if we had been conscious?!”

“What? Let me feel,” Kili demanded playfully, sitting on Bilbo’s other side.

“Alright, Little Prince. Give me your hand.”

Bilbo repeated the process despite the indulgent eye rolls most of the company members gave at the thought that Kili could be still and calm enough to feel what Fili had. Bilbo looked at them all with a knowing smile on his face as he patiently waited. 

Scant minutes later, in nearly half the time it had taken Fili, the markings which covered the back of Kili’s neck and crept around to just in front of his ears began to glow. As they watched Kili’s jubilant expression, a few tears slipping unchecked from beneath his closed eyelids, they all could see as the vines began to spread a bit until they framed his face, just visible at the hairline and then stopped.

Kili placed his other hand upon the ground as well, breathing lightly. “It’s wonderful, Bilbo. No wonder hobbits never wear shoes if this is what you can feel.” He paused then and a giggle escaped him, “I feel so light.”

Bilbo reached up and traced part of the newly spread vines at Kili’s temple, “Did I forget to mention that if there’s a strong enough connection, one can become drunk off the Blessing I the Shire the first few times you feel it? Oh, must have slipped my mind.”

At Bifur’s laughter from his back, Bilbo eased his fingers slowly beneath Kili’s hands to gently break the connection. The young dwarf whined at that, but gave no other protest as the glowing faded. Nori came over and helped the prince to his feet, pulling him gently over to where Bombur was working at skinning the deer they had killed for supper.

“Bofur, come over here,” Bilbo called across the fire.

After a moment of adding a bit of water to the soup pot, the dwarf did the limp he had more pronounced than usual due to the long riding which aggravated his knee and ankle. He managed to sit beside the hobbit after using his cousin’s shoulder to ease him to the ground without bending the stiffened joints too much. 

The guards that were to take the second watch that night didn’t bother to hide the curious stares after they saw the Company members do the same after Bilbo asked to see Bofur’s leg.

Dwalin and Fili both set to helping their friend remove his boot, sock, and pull his trouser leg up past the knee, baring the twisted scarring around the joints. He’d fallen in the battle outside Erebor and an orc had fallen next to him that wasn’t completely dead yet. It had only taken a single swipe with a dagger for the orc to go through his leg from knee to ankle, cackling even as it died. 

They’d gotten him to the healing tents quickly, but by the time the Company had learned of the injury, Bilbo had already weakened himself and passed out from healing the Princes and Thorin. Bofur hadn’t begrudged them the use of Bilbo skills as they had each been so close to death, but the pain had never dwindled and there were times even his normally cheerful outlook couldn’t mask it.

“Bilbo?” Fili asked once Bofur’s leg was uncovered. “What did you mean about a strong connection when you have Kili feel the Green Mother’s Blessing here?”

The hobbit smiled, “I’m not sure why, but at the battle I could feel it. He had a connection to Yavana, already.”

Then Bilbo turned away to Bofur, “Just relax, brother.”

He placed one hand gently on the dwarf’s ankle and the other on his knee. For a moment nothing happened, but then the green markings that now trailed around Bilbo’s wrists and up his arms, hidden under his shirt, began to glow brightly. All around them stared in shock and amazement except Bifur whom had been around when Bilbo had healed other hobbits decades before.

As they all watched an echoing glow began on Bofur’s leg and the image of vines began to creep out from beneath Bilbo’s hands. The relaxing guards had come closer to see what was happening and saw the vines beginning to creep along the damaged leg. It took a few moments to realize it, but then they looked between the two princes’ marks and the ones forming on Bofur.

One of the younger guards, still older than the Durin heirs, was the first to speak, breathing out what his fellow guards were thinking, “By Mahal’s Forge, that’s what they meant. He healed them, saved them.”

Dwalin began to laugh quietly then, “Aye, our hobbit’s the one that saved the Princes’ lives and then our King’s when he reached the healer’s tents. It was more than just his help in reclaiming Erebor that had King Thorin naming him Dwarf-friend. Never underestimate a hobbit, ever. The bead he was presented with when King Thorin named him such was no common trinket, but the only one of its kind.”

Though they told the guards no more, the Company members all shared a smile, knowing exactly what the bead was made of and that each one of them had assisted in some way with the making of it or the box it had been presented in. No one would ever be able to look at the stone above Thorin’s throne and know that there was a hole in the back of it, a piece chipped away. It flawed the stone horribly, but none of the company had cared, knowing what that stone had almost caused and what it had almost cost them all in the end.

The day Thorin had held the hobbit in mid-air above the gates was the day they had all learned so many secrets. Not even Bofur and Bombur had known why Bifur wanted them to protect the hobbit, they had just done one of the few requests Bifur had asked of them since the ax took his ability to communicate properly with any of them.

\-- -- -- flashback -- -- --  
It took a moment after Thorin had Bilbo in the air for the last of the gold sickness that had crept over Bifur’s mind to fade. Then, he had Thorin’s arm in his grip and adrenaline gave him the strength to force his arm to move until Bilbo was back above the walkway, only a foot from the stone floor instead of 100 above the ground below. Thorin had turned on Bifur then with a snarl and knocked him to the ground, drawing his sword.

Bilbo hadn’t even thought twice before flinging himself between the two with a snarl, “You will not take him from me, Thorin Oakenshield. Your greed has already taken you, clouded everything around you. The gold sickness shows the lies where there are none, treason where only loyalty stands. I swear by Mahal’s Grace, you are just as poisoned as Thror was before the dragon’s coming.”

Bilbo’s voice had risen as he spoke until the last words were shouted and the rest of the Company flinched back except for Thorin whose arms had brought the sword in his grip up as he stepped forward. Throughout Bilbo’s short speech, the other dwarrows heads had begun to clear, seeing just what it was they had been doing, how they had been acting. 

In contrast, Thorin’s anger had only seemed to grow, his expression darkening further with each word, hands tightening around the hilt of his sword. He began to slowly advance and they all would swear that a slight glow had begun to surround him.

Behind the hobbit, Bifur had risen to his feet and was just reaching out to pull Bilbo away when the clatter of steel on stone stopped everyone. Thorin and had only managed two steps forward before he’d fallen to his knees, dropping the sword in his hand, eyes wide as he stared at Bilbo. Already there were a few bruises beginning to form on the hobbit’s neck.

“Mahal, what have I done.”

There was silence above the wall for a bit, the dwarrows ignoring the elves and men that were gathered before the gates. Then Bifur spoke, his gruff speech echoing about them. Bilbo’s eyes got wide at that and the blush spread rapidly across his face, catching everyone’s attention that wasn’t staring at Thorin.

“Mr. Baggins?” Balin asked gently and the hobbit squeaked out an affirmative.

Then Bifur spoke again and Bilbo sent an elbow back, just barely grazing the dwarf’s stomach, “That’s – I cannot even express how inappropriate that was, Bifur! Honestly!”

“You understood what he said, Bilbo?” Bofur asked quietly.

“I… Yes, I can understand Bifur when he speaks, though I have very little knowledge of what the rest of you are saying when you speak Khuzdul.”

“How is that possible? No one remembers more than a few words of Ancient Khuzdul,” Balin demand.

Bilbo shrugged and looked back at Bifur whom wrapped his arms around Bilbo’s shoulders. “It was a gift. A couple of the Valar seem to like me.”

“We are waiting for your answer, dwarf!” 

The shout from below at the gates brought everyone back to what had been happening before the Arkenstone was presented. Thorin staggered to his feet, Dwalin helping him to steady. He accepted the help naturally, gratefully, where less than an hour before he would have shouted about it. A few steps took him back to the wall, but his sword still lay on the stone. He took a few minutes to simply look out at those gathered before the gates and the smoking ruins of Laketown.

“Bard, descendent of the Lord of Dale, I cannot give you a fourteenth share of the gold, however, I can and will give you half of my share of fourteen as well as Dale should any wish to return there. Once more of my kin begin to arrive, I will send all that can be spared to help make safe the ruins of Dale for your people, should you wish, in return for the Arkenstone.”

The man seemed surprised at Thorin’s sudden change of mind, and suspicious, “How can I know that your thoughts on this matter will not change again?”

“I will have a contract written up this very day to seal our agreement, if what I have proposed suits you and your people.”

“It is agreeable, Thorin Oakenshield.”

“You have appeased the men, but what of my kind, dwarf?” Thranduil sat taller in his saddle, his mask of calm cracked with anger.

“I cannot give offer of the same to you as it would be worthless, but I do have an offer for you. I know of what my grandfather denied you in his madness that day. You shall have what was once to be given to you. In return, I ask that what possessions were taken from my Company in your dungeons be returned to us. If that is agreeable, a contract will also be written with such terms.”

“And if the chest is never found? If the contents have been destroyed or… misplaced? What then?” Thranduil’s tone dripped with how strongly his disbelief was that the bargain would be kept.

“Then a chest of equal size shall be filled again as soon as my people are able to begin mining. The contract will state as much, in return for everything that was taken from our possession that day, even Orcrist, which Lord Elrond had allowed me to keep with his blessing.”

“We shall see, dwarf.”

Where asked, even before the gold sickness had taken him, thorn would have been shouting about the disrespect and calling off any deal entirely, he now said nothing, merely informing Bard that it would take some time to organize for the gold to be separated and the blockade they had built to be opened. Then, he turned back to the company, eyes focusing on Bilbo whom Bifur still had wrapped in his arms.

“Bilbo, Bifur, please forgive me for what I’ve done, and what I almost did. I have no excuse I can offer, nor do I want to give one, for how I have been.”

Bifur said something, but without the Iglishmek, none of the other dwarrows understood him. Bilbo then spoke for both of them, “Bifur said he accepts the apology as long as you don’t lose more of your mind than he has. And I… we… forgive you, Thorin, though I agree with Bifur’s statement. I’m not sure the company could survive two of you so ridiculous.” Bilbo smiled at the dwarf behind him to take any sting out of his words.

“Will you tell us of how you were blessed with such a gift to understand Bifur?” Thorin asked quietly, no anger in his bearing at the hobbit knowing their sacred language, though it was obviously not a matter of someone teaching the hobbit.

“Tonight. I’ll explain to you all tonight, but now there are more important things to focus on like contracts and agreements to be kept, yes?”

\-- -- -- -- -- --

The glow beneath Bilbo’s hands faded and the hobbit slumped backwards against Bifur, causing the Company members to cry out in dismay. Bifur checked him over quickly, having been the one to assist Oin in caring for Bilbo before they left Erebor. Bofur was shaking his head, upset at both himself and Bilbo for his leg and Bilbo possibly harming himself again.

Bifur reached out and took hold of his cousin’s shoulder, shaking his head. Then his hands moved, conveying what he could.

“He’s just sleeping? You’re sure he hasn’t made himself ill again?” Bofur begged, not wanting his injury to be cause for Bilbo’s health getting worse.

It took Bifur a few minutes to reassure his cousin and the rest of the company that Bilbo hadn’t relapsed before they finally migrated back to what they had been doing before. Bofur had tears in his eyes as he reached down and was able to put his own boot and sock back on without assistance for the first time in over six months.

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

“So, how do you feel now that you match royalty?” Bilbo asked with a yawn when Bofur’s was the first face Bilbo saw after his husband woke him when the food was ready.

Bofur laughed brightly and pulled Bilbo into a fierce hug, just shy of being painful. “Don’t worry, I won’t think too highly of myself, can’t confuse me for a Durin no matter how blind you might be. I was afraid you’d done more damage to yourself when you passed out. You could’ve waited until you were further healed, Bilbo, if you’d planned to do that.”

“You’re family, Bofur. Besides, the worst that can happen now that we’re in the Shire is that I’ll fall asleep. I draw the Blessing from the very ground we sit on instead of needing to use myself as a means of fueling the Blessing as I did in Erebor.”

“What would have happened had you done more healing in Erebor? If you’d had to save another of the Company?” Fili asked very seriously from Bilbo’s side. 

It drew the attention of all the dwarrow there as the first round of guards had switched with the second and been updated on what they’d learned of Bilbo by the other guards. The hobbit remained quiet gaze focused on the fire nearby while one hand unconsciously settled onto the grass beside the bedroll.

“Bilbo?” Kili asked, coming to kneel in front of the other’s gaze so he was forced to look at him.

“There would have been no need for any of you to return to the Shire if that had been the case.” Bilbo felt Bifur’s hold on him tighten slightly at his words and he simply patted the dwarf’s hands gently. “But, that didn’t happen and here we are, nearly to Bag-End."

Reviews are appreciated.


	3. Cleaning House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the travelers arrive and learn of happenings in Bilbo's absence

The next morning when the group set out again Bilbo rode beside Bombur on the seat of the wagon for the first time on the entire trip. He had spent the night sleeping beneath the stars on his bedroll, one hand in contact with bare ground the entire night. While not energetic enough to walk the distance they would be traveling, he didn’t need any assistance climbing up the wagon, nor back down when they stopped for lunch.

It was there as they all relaxed in an open field, knowing that they had barely an hour left before they reached Bilbo’s home, that they were approached by a handful of hobbits. They had passed some through the morning, but they had done little more than stare, mostly at Bilbo. 

Now, there were two in matching feathered caps and the other three were dressed more like Bilbo had been at the very beginning of the quest, prim and proper, and all walking. One of them, with an elaborately embroidered waistcoat and jacket started towards them, ignoring the dwarrows entirely, eyes narrowed as he stared at Bilbo whom was standing entirely unconcerned.

The hobbit stopped barely feet away from the other and scowled before grabbing Bilbo into a tight hug. When he pulled back, he cuffed the other on the back of the head and the only thing that stopped Dwalin and Nori from pulling weapons on the hobbit was Bilbo’s laughter.

“It’s nice to see you as well, Fortinbras, or should I call you Thain now?”

“Very funny, cousin.” The hobbit grasped one of Bilbo’s hands and brought it up, looking closely at the many vines that curled around the back and between the fingers he held. “Fool, you know better than to do so much feeling outside of the Shire, it even goes under your sleeves!”

A mischievous light entered Bilbo’s eyes and he pulled his hand back to undo the ties holding the top of his dwarrow made shirt closed. When he pulled it aside to show a collarbone, the other hobbit took a step back, eyes as wide as they could go.

“Blessed Yavanna. Were you trying to kill yourself?”

“Of course not, but neither was I going to let good friends die when I was right there and able to help,” Bilbo snapped back.

The other hobbit burst out laughing, “Finally, Bilbo! I thought for certain the Baggins in you had swallowed every bit of Took there was, adventure or no. I never thought I’d see such presence in you again.”

“What are you going on about, ‘Bras?”

“This! I never thought to see again that troublemaker that led even us Tooks on a merry chase when we were young. There has yet to be a Took or Brandybuck that has surpassed your record for pranks and mischief in all of the Shire or Buckland.”

“What?!” Kili yelped in disbelief and turned bright eyes onto Bilbo, the vines along his face exposed completely to the other hobbits. “You never told us any of those stories, Master Baggins, I thought you liked us!”

“I certainly wasn’t going to encourage you while we were out in the middle of nowhere, Kili! But, if you can stay for a few days before continuing on to Ered Luin, I’m sure I could give you some ideas to use on your uncle when you return to Erebor.” Every dwarrow standing there, including at least half the guards groaned at that as a wide grin stretched across Kili’s face, echoed by one on Fili’s.

“Cousin, I’m afraid that you’re going to have a good deal of hobbits angry with you.”

“Whatever for? Going on an adventure is nothing more than simply scandalous behavior, not enough to anger anyone,” Bilbo responded in genuine surprise, turning his attention back to his relative.

“Unfortunately, when you did not return by midwinter, you were declared dead, due in no small part to the Bracegirdles. Camelia has wanted that home since your father built it for Aunt Belladonna after rejecting Camelia as a suitor. I was not made aware of such nonsense until I came upon some of your books from the book vendor in Buckland. 

“All of the Tooks have been on the lookout for anything that might be yours and we’ve been collecting what we have found, as well as your neighbors having snuck in with Holman Greenhand to abduct a rather large number of things that they knew were quite important to you of your parents.”

“But that’s – that’s --! I’m clearly not dead!” Bilbo’s shouted out and stomped one foot on the ground, uncaring that he looked like a child having a tantrum instead of a middle-aged hobbit. “So that’s – that – person is living in my home without permission and selling off my things and – and—”

Bifur wrapped his arms around Bilbo, pulling him back to lean against him in comfort, “There must be something that can be done. You said yourself that you are hardly dead.”

“You are the dwarf that Bilbo healed as a tween,” Fortinbras said quietly and Bifur nodded.

“He is my husband by dwarrow law, cousin.”

“And what of hobbit law?!” the other hobbit demanded.

“Unofficially by our ways, too. It is no more than you did with your wife, dear cousin,” Bilbo’s eyes were again shining mischievously.

Fortinbras sputtered a moment, his cheeks flushing heavily, “Yes, well, do you plan on making it official them?”

“It will be some years in the future, but yes. Bifur has promised me a wedding to be the envy of all the Shire. Though I believe that will be a given just based on the foreign guests that shall be arriving for it.”

The hobbit looked at Bilbo curiously for a minute, but Bilbo simply shook his head. “Well, Camelia, while greedy, is at least sensible. She still holds the deed to the family’s previous home which contains all of their furniture, kept for her darling Lobelia when she finally marries. If you would be able to linger here for a few more hours, I will ensure that she has removed herself and her family from Bag-End, though I can do little for any of your things that have not been found by the other Tooks.”

Bilbo sighed and looked up at his husband. “I cannot replace the memories, but you know that I, and the rest of the company, would do whatever we could to replace anything that cannot be brought back.”

When Bilbo answered, it was quiet and in the Ancient Khuzdul that Bifur spoke in, shocking the entirety of those around him, even the other Company members. “After everything that has happened, I could be content in an empty smial with you at my side, Bifur. The memories will always be there and there is nothing more important to me than what my arms are wrapped around.”

There was a slight squeak from Kili when Bifur dipped his head to claim Bilbo’s lips hungrily. A minute later Dwalin coughed loudly and Bofur slapped his older cousin’s shoulder a few times to get his attention. Meanwhile, Fortinbras had turned away and spoken to the two with feathered caps that had accompanied him. They left just as Bifur finally pulled away from his husband.

“Thank you, cousin, for your help. How long do you think we should linger before continuing on to Hobbiton?” Bilbo asked once he’d gotten his breath back.

“Give me three hours, Bilbo, it would take at least that long to evict her.” With that, the hobbit nodded to the couple and went back to where the last of his group were waiting for him.

“Since when could you also speak Ancient Khuzdul, Mr. Baggins?” Kili asked impishly once the hobbits were out of sight, causing Bilbo to groan and bury his face against Bifur’s chest, surrounded by laughter from the Company members.

As the large group reached the gate of Bag-End, they could hear screeching coming from within the smial and Bilbo laughed quietly, “I knew I should have given Fortinbras an extra hour.”

“Do you want to look about your garden while we wait, Bilbo?” Fili asked as though such loud shouting was an everyday occurrence.

“Yes, might as well see what kind of damage has been done.”

The guards were all left on the road with the wagons as Bilbo led the Company members around the smial to the back where his main garden was situated. The entire time, moist of them kept a closer eye on the hobbit than on the plants around them. Bilbo seemed to not get tired at all as they walked, indeed had even walked up Bag-Shot Row with Bifur without needing aid. Though he had explained a bit more of how quickly he would recover now that he was in the Shire, the Company, even Bifur, was amazed at just how quickly he was regaining strength. 

Just as they had completed the full circuit of the smial, the front door was opened and Camelia Bracegirdle was escorted out by the two hobbits with the feathered caps, a large basket in her arms piled with clothing and other such linens. Behind her came a boy, about in his teens with a large box full of various personal care items and a young girl holding to his bracers with one hand while the other was trying to keep a bag of toys from bumping against the ground despite the handle being on one shoulder. 

Fortinbras came after them with another male hobbit at his side, the two speaking quietly. The other hobbit had a few wood working tools with him and another basket piled with clothing, but seemed in rather high spirits for the situation.

When the elder female hobbit spied him, she strode right up to Bilbo, a sneer on her face, “You… You should have stayed dead like any decent hobbit. This smial was mine by all rights with you gone and I would have gotten behind that locked stone wall eventually, find out all your little secrets in there. You’re nothing but a disgrace to hobbits everywhere. I doubt your parents would have been anything but shocked at how disrespectable you have become, Bilbo Baggins. This isn’t the last you’ve seen or heard from me.”

Before any of the dwarrows could do more than stare at the hobbitess’ rant, she had already marched on through the gate and down the road, ignoring the guards and the wagons entirely. The two children followed after, the girl squeaking in fear as they passed the guards with their weaponry handing in plain view. The other unknown hobbit stopped in front of Bilbo next, his eyes following the hobbitess down the road for a moment before he spoke.

“Wonderful to see you’ve returned, Master Baggins. You’ll find some of your parents’ more valuable small possessions in the very back of the cold-cellar behind a half dozen boxes. As soon as she began to talk of selling things, I moved what I could get to without her noticing. I wish I knew what made her become so enthralled with this smial to begin with, but she simply begins to rant if I ask. It’s not as if her suit to Bungo could have ever been accepted, she was a mere tween at the time, not old enough by far to even consider something of that nature.”

“Thank you, Tillmen. At least she isn’t so shrewish about everything or I’d truly pity you,” Bilbo responded congenially.

The hobbit laughed, No harm done, Master Baggins. Holman’s been keeping the garden up at my insistence and I’ve kept the smial up as well as I could. If you have any questions or are trying to find something particular, let me know, I might be able to help or point you in the right direction.” Then, he continued through the gate and down the road following after the rest of his family.

“Well, he seemed pleasant enough,” Bofur mentioned, surprised.

“Yes. Camelia used to be a very sweet thing when they were younger from everything I’ve been told, but after her daughter came about she’s become far more of an annoyance to anyone that is better off than them or she feels has given her slight, imagined or not. Of course, the biggest slight was my father marrying my mother over her, but as Tillmen said, she was too young to even be considering such things, by at least a decade.”

“Cousin, what did she mean by a stone wall? Your parents never expanded out that I remember and I was here often enough with Mother growing up,” Fortinbras asked as he came up to the group.

Bilbo smiled at those around him, “It is part of Mahal’s Blessing.” 

He took hold of Bifur’s hand and walked into the still open doorway as he continued, not bothering to check on any of the rooms they passed just yet, some of which were quite bare. “One day, after a confrontation in the market the afternoon before, I woke from a strange dream about this hallway. It was intended to be able to continue it out into the hill if my parents had ever had more children. That morning I found it had been expanded anyway.”

The group stopped at the end of the long hallway they were led down in front of a stone wall without a door. Bilbo reached out and placed his hand on the wall where bright blue lines began to spread out to form a doorway that appeared afterwards as heavy wood.

“A dwarrow door,” Ori breathed out quietly.

“Yes, anyone but me that tried to get into this room has been met by a stone wall, such as curious cousins. But I hope that Bifur won’t have that reaction.” So saying, he took the hand he held and placed it against the doorknob before pulling his own away, holding his breath as he did so.

Bifur turned the knob and the door opened without problem, bringing a laugh to Bilbo. Then, the others all filed into the room after him, staring in awe at the mural or the bookcase. Bifur went over to the desk, remembering that Bilbo had put away everything he’d had there before leaving on the quest, but a lone piece of paper sat there now.

He called his husband’s name after glancing over the parchment’s writing. Bilbo took it and read it through once before stopping and reading it again, slower than before. He glanced up at the other dwarrows with wide eyes, his gaze settling on the two princes.

Finally, Fili stepped forward to Bilbo’s side, “What does it say?”

“I—It—It says that I will have as long a lifespan as Bifur does, so I don’t need to worry about dying long before and leaving him alone. And… it is a gift to me for curing the line of Durin from the gold-sickness ever appearing again.”

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Two days later, the mood amongst the dwarrows was still jubilant. Bilbo and Bifur had gone down to the market early the morning after arriving and ordered enough food to feed all twenty-two people staying in or around Bag-End for a two-day feast, as well as enough ale or mead to keep them happy through the length of it. 

Most of the guards were careful not to indulge overly much, but some still grumbled lightly about the sun as they all packed their ponies for the continuing journey, the wagons already emptied into new, hidden, dwarrow made caches about the smial.

Bofur would be staying with Bilbo and Bifur to help get everything settled with Bilbo’s return and to assist while the hobbit scouted out a large enough home for Bombur’s brood when they returned. 

Neither of the brothers was willing to leave their cousin alone since he had no intentions of leaving the Shire and as Bifur had predicted so long ago, they had no concerns with making their homes nearby, especially as they were not required to work any longer if they chose, even with just the small amount of their shares they had brought with them.

Bilbo ignored the gathering of hobbits that just happened to be on Bag-Shot Row speaking to the few neighbors within eyesight and especially earshot as the leaving dwarrows were swinging up into their saddles. The Company members were last as they each said good-bye to the three remaining. 

Bilbo simply heaved a few sighs at the more obvious reactions some of the gathered hobbits were giving the farewells such as Dwalin’s head-tap to all three of them, though much gentler with Bilbo and carefully with Bifur. Then there was the throwing knife that Nori slipped into Bilbo’s waistcoat with a reminder to continue practicing. 

Gloin and Bombur’s good-byes elicited nearly no reactions, but mostly because Bombur called him kin in Khuzdul instead of Westron so the hobbits had no idea what he had said. Then, it was Fili and Kili’s turn and Bilbo just knew they were about to make a spectacle by the mischief on their faces. 

Indeed, they swept in together and hugged him tightly between them, lifting his feet clear off the ground until Bifur pointedly cleared his throat at them. They had also ensured that the sides with the green vines were clearly visible to all their spectators, just to remind them of what Bilbo could do. 

The two began to spout compliments then to their ‘esteemed Royal Burglar’ and how grateful they were for his help in recovering their lost kingdom while the rest of the Company rolled their eyes at them despite the gasps of shock coming from Bilbo’s observers. Finally, he’d had enough and Bilbo smacked both their arms.

“Honestly, no one would ever be able to tell that the two of you are princes with the way you’re carrying on so. Be off with you, your families are waiting to see you again and don’t forget to remind Thorin that I’ll send word a year before the wedding so he can plan ahead, no excuses.”

“Of course not, Bilbo,” Fili answered, entirely serious. “I would never allow Uncle to decline the invitation. The mountain will run itself well enough without its King for a handful of months.”

The entire group looked around when they heard several muffled ‘thumps’ only to see a number of the hobbits that were watching had fainted at Fili’s announcement. The Company members all burst out laughing at that, including Bilbo, and Dwalin waved them forward once the princes had mounted their ponies.

When the group was out of sight, Bofur decided to remain in front of the smial, taking some quiet time to smoke as he watched the other hobbits trying to resettle themselves. He waved away Bifur and Bilbo when they offered to join him with the mention that the two really hadn’t had any alone time with both healthy since their marriage was official by dwarrow standards. 

He did ask Bilbo to call him whenever the next meal would be, but to take their time, enjoying the blush which spread across both their faces as they went back in, the green door soundly closing behind them.

\-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

There was still a week to go before the wedding was to take place when the caravan arrived at the Shire. Their first stop was at the Green dragon Inn where they could stable their ponies and the guards could be provided rooms. It was already arranged for the others to divide themselves between two locations for the length of their stay and one of those was to be stop number two. 

Even though it had been ten years since the last dwarrow caravan had meandered through the west farthing, there was still talk of the supposed ‘Princes’ that had delivered ‘Mad Baggins’ back from the dead. When those same dwarrow were seen at the head of the current caravan, riding just behind a dwarf with a thick crown of mithril around his head, the hobbits that had scoffed at the presumption could only stare. 

The two younger dwarrow had their own crowns present this time, much thinner than the other’s, but obviously denoting rank. Drawing even more stares were the green vines that were on all three. The younger twos’ had already been seen on their first visit through, but the hobbits could see the edges of vines peaking above the King’s collar as well.

Then, as the thirteen dwarrow that were not staying at the Green Dragon left and began the trek up to their destination by foot, a cheerful voice called out to them from near the market, startling every hobbit in ear-shot to silence.

“Thorin, you’ve arrived!” Bilbo Baggins made his way over to the group with a wide smile on his face, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, baring the vines that curled thickly about them.

“Burglar,” Thorin said in way of greeting, the hint of a grin present.

“My King,” Bilbo said and dipped into a showy, but entirely respectful bow. “We were wondering if you might have gotten held up.”

“Only a bit of trouble over the Mountains, nothing serious like Goblin Town. And where is your husband today?”

“At Bag-End, tending to the flowers he finds particularly tasty.”

A groan came from the midst of the dwarrow cluster, “Please tell me you still cook meat, Bilbo, despite that Bifur doesn’t eat it?”

Bilbo laughed, “Of course, Ori, I’m no tree-shagger, though you’ll have to be polite for some of Rivendell have been invited to the ceremony with Bifur’s approval.”

“You enjoy tormenting me, don’t you, Bilbo,” Thorin said with a heavy sigh.

“Now, now, Thorin, Lord Elrond is perfectly cordial unlike that Mirkwood blond, even to you. And his sons are no more of a handful than your nephews. However, Lindir might just faint when he sees you all again.”

The end was said with a laugh as Fili and Kili pretended to be wounded about what was said, the dwarrowdam next to them rolling her eyes at their dramatics. Beside Gloin Bilbo could see another dwarrowdam that must have been his wife and a young dwarrow that was no doubt the Gimli that he often remarked upon so proudly. 

Thorin and Bilbo stepped forward into a warm hug, smiles wider than most had ever seen from the King, before he began to lead the way to his smial, grinning all the while at the muffled ‘thumps’ he heard from behind them.

Reviews are appreciated.


End file.
